


Wartime comforts

by DaTunaSamich



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cute, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Language Barrier, Wholesome, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaTunaSamich/pseuds/DaTunaSamich
Summary: Two soldiers cross paths, and it going to be a cold night.(No smut, only wholesomeness.)
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	Wartime comforts

**Author's Note:**

> ~ is for pov swap.

He had been tied up for two hours. And it was getting incredibly frustrating.

Mikhail had landed via parachute those two hours ago, blown off course from his group, and stuck in a tree. The branches snagged his rifle away from him, and left him dangling a few feet off the ground.

Hanging there, he felt helpless, and uncomfortable. It was cold, the sun painting the sky with beautiful hues of fiery reds and purple. The beginning of the sunset, the loss of day.

“Now i'm going to be stuck in a tree, cold, and in the DARK." Mikhail said, trying to reach for the tangled cords of his chute.

After a while he gave up, he was never going to reach the tangled cords, or branches that held them.

'This is stupid, it’s just like the training incident' the thought came to him, seemingly to mock him.

As the last rays of golden light left the treetops, He heard footsteps.

A soldier was coming towards him, alone.

“Aleksi! Is that you?! Thank you! finally! I'm stuck in a tree, and all my stuff is tangled in the branches!” Mikhail said, more, shouted at the figure coming towards him.

A voice called back loudly in a language he couldn’t understand. It wasn’t anyone he knew.  
Who was this then? An enemy? One of the allied countries soldiers?

“Hello? Who are you? Can you speak russian? Are you a german?”

The soldier moved closer, pulling their rifle from their shoulder, pointing it at him. Mikhail quickly spread his hands, shouting jumbled pleas as they moved closer. The soldier's voice became clearer as they moved closer, slowly shrinking the distance.

Mikhail shook when the gunfire started, the repetitive shots unexpected as he flinched inward naturally against the shots.  
So this was the famed new age rifle of the enemy, so technologically advanced compared to the rest of the world.  
Untensing, He felt the cords shifting, and then he heard the snap.

The soldier had sawed through a tree branch;

Letting him slowly drop to the ground, the other branches slowing his descent, somehow managing to roll on the final drop.

Now sufficiently tangled in his parachute cords on the ground, and head spinning like he spun too many times around, he thought he heard footsteps approach. As his mind straightened itself, Mikhail felt the soldier loom over him, and then the cords loosen as their knife cut through them with an audible rip. As he moved his head to see the soldier’s face, he saw very distinct features, shaggy chopped hair falling just below their helmet, and a noticeable figure.

She had a very nice face, but that didn’t distract him from the cuffs binding his wrists, or being stood up and led through the woods. The sky was now painted with the death throes of the sunset, being washed away like sidewalk-chalk murals at the end of an event.

He had been tied up for two hours. And it was getting incredibly frustrating.

When the trees broke and the ground tread softer on their feet, They stopped; The soldier leaving him sitting down in the middle of looming trees.

Mikhail was genuinely surprised when she pulled a hatch from right out of the ground, a foxhole no doubt. Those germans, automatic rifles and hidden holes in the ground,  
‘What’s next, hot tea?’

‘No, not hot tea.’ he said as he was dragged and tied to the nearest tree.

At least she pulled his woolen cap down snug and put a blanket over him, perhaps they weren’t so evil after all.

‘Well, she’s still going to leave me here while she gets to sleep in a comfy fox hole.’

Mikhail watched her as she disappeared under the hatch, huffing a sigh and casting his eyes downward.

[===]

Vera shut the hatch behind her, still thinking about the soldier’s ramblings all through their walk here, non stop ‘questions?’, he spoke incredibly fast and in another tongue. Very, loud, almost unbearable. Setting her rig and helmet down on a low table, she sat on her makeshift bed, the blanket and long pillow usually vertical to hold onto while sleeping now rested horizontal, and tonight was going to be cold, she’d seen the weather, sparse clouds quickly forming together, blotting out the sky.

Vera wrote in her report book about her findings, Day 65, over two months alone in the wilderness just before the border, it had been so long since she had seen another face, her family photo in her pocket watch was all she had.

She mulled over the ideas of bringing him into the hole, to have some physical contact again, just for a while.

No, that’s completely out of the question, it’s against the law, she'd be booted out of the military. Cast out as a traitor. Disowned.

But… it was going to be cold tonight, how would he be after tonight? Would he come down with frostbite, or a cold, would he freeze to death.

“fuck”, she said, the word quiet and muffled by the hatch.

Vera rolled onto her knees and propped open the hatch, eyeing the foreign soldier, still where she left him.

He looked resigned to his fate, eyes looking down and slow breathing, as if he had already dozed off.  
Grumbling, Vera climbed out of the hole, and went over and untied his cuffs from the tree, (still leaving him cuffed, of course.)

She tapped him awake, looking at his uniform, his name badge was written with weird letters, nothing like her’s, there was an M, and an x and a few backwards N’s with a weird, it was weird.

“hey, maxin? maxain?, miksim?” She kept tapping him, giving up on his name; Her taps however, were successful, his bleary eyes opening into the night and meeting her’s, quickly opening to shock as he remembered where he was.

Vera shushed him like a child quickly and kneeled to his eye level, putting on a stern face and trying to explain using charades what she wanted.

~

Mikhail woke to tapping on his shoulder, his eyes opening and shutting as he looked around, finding a stern face looking at him,

‘did I really fall asleep that easily?’

The woman was making sure she had his attention, because when his eyes faltered and began to close, she was tapping him again. Fine, she had his attention, nodding, he watched her with open eyes, slowly nodding.

She was pointing and making gestures, and sounds, and words that he didn’t understand. Making a confused face he shook his head in confusion.

His captor didn’t like that apparently because she slowed down and made her gestures with a vigor that was absent beforehand.

Pointing at him, a word. At her, a word. Pointing behind her, word. And finally raising her hands to her head, like a pillow, and closing one eye.

Did she want him to sl-

Mikhail blushed furiously at the thought, it was- it-. He looked down and to his side in embarrassment, to which he was met with laughter, cute genuine laughter.

Quickly he was hoisted up by his collar and dragged into the foxhole.

It was actually quite roomy inside, with an improvised log table against one side and the bed making up most of the rest of the room.

When she relieved him of his cuffs, she had made it abundantly clear, with no uncertain foreign words, (and numerous lewd gestures, including her knife) that she wouldn’t hesitate to ‘defend herself’, if he tried anything ‘funny’.

Now, mortally terrified, and at the mercy of this woman, he watched in still fear as she climbed down onto the blankets of her foxhole bed, and took off her jacket and boots, leaving the offending items off of the clean blankets and on the table and floor, respectively.

~

Holding her arms open, she was waiting for him to climb in after her, and to settle down next to her.  
‘Hurry up, dude, come on!’ her thoughts were growing furious as he stood there, hands clasped in front of him like a scared little boy.

“come on, it’s going to get cold tonight so stop bitching and get in bed, and I don’t care if you can’t understand me, because this is only ending one way, my way.” she said, staring into his eyes.

Vera sat up in her bed, her eyes still locked on his, “What’s your name.” she pointed across to her jacket, grabbing the fabric and underlining the name badge with her finger.

“Vvvv eee rrr aaaa,” She said pointing to herself. “Vera.” She then pointed to him.

He held a finger pointed to his chest, “Mick, ha, ell, Mikhail”

“Mikhail,” Vera said, motioning, “Come on, i'm fucking cold.”

Mikhail nodded, taking off his boots, leaving them with her’s. He was about to climb onto the bed, when he stopped, motioning to her about the jacket, if she wanted him to take it off.

Vera gave a long nod, watching him take off and fold the fabric.

Vera was practically pulling him into her arms when he got onto the bed, pulling him as snug and close to her as she could, she had to make this last, it had been so long since she had held anyone so close. And his smell, that just… smell of him, it was unnamable, but it was like the sweetest thing she had smelled in her life, it made her feel safe.

Wrapping her arm underneath his neck and the other around his chest, she held his hand as she drifted off to sleep.

Funny how she would find comfort sharing a bed with the enemy.

**Author's Note:**

> and yeah I posted this at midnight, listening to lofi-hiphop, (yeah that one, long live the queen), and missing my bf, sue me. its cute and if you enjoyed reading it as must as I enjoyed writting it then leave a comment or somethin'
> 
> -Reed


End file.
